


What did you just call me?

by Written_prose_things



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pack Dynamics, Pining, derek nests but Stiles doesn't know it's importance, everyone is alive thank you very much, kind of nesting Derek, oblivious idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:41:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Written_prose_things/pseuds/Written_prose_things
Summary: When an unknown hunter walks into Beacon Hills, Derek goes into Over Protective Alpha mode. Everyone gets puts into groups, which they're supposed to stick with at all times.Stiles gets stuck with Derek. Ya know, The Alpha He Has A Crush On.Over the next three days, they both realise exactly how much fun their normal life can be as well.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 59
Kudos: 471





	1. Sourwolf, Shirt and Sleeping on the floor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: Hey! Any new reader, DO NOT SUBSCRIBE to this fic, please. It has 69 subs right now, and I'm very happy with that. Thank you very much. :)  
> ...yes I have the humour of a middle-school boy, don't judge me.  
> EDIT 2: .....why...are there 70 subs........

_When you’ve only interacted with 4 hunters in 2 years and all of them are varying degrees of murderous, you form a stereotype about them. It might seem rude, but it keeps you safe._   
_So when a new hunter shows up in Beacon Hills, the obvious first reaction of the Hale Pack is dread, followed closely by an intense urge to protect the pack._

-x-

After a bit of redecorating, Derek’s loft becomes the pack’s den. It’s far more welcoming than the dingy run-down places he’s been staying in before.

Scott, Erica and Boyd are playing Mario Kart, sitting on the floor in front of the flat-screen T.V. (Stiles is just happy that his gift hasn’t gone to waste, the website he bought it from hadn’t had a return policy). Lydia, Allison and Issac are sitting on the couch, their feet resting on the shoulders of the ‘wolves on the floor, as they flip through magazines.

Stiles loves watching them from his perch on the countertop in the kitchen. The pack is beginning to feel more like family every day.

The only person who’s missing is Jackson, who’s out on his night patrol of the county’s borders.

Derek has them all on a roster, mostly as a precautionary measure.

From the corner of his eye, Stiles sees Derek staring at him.

When Stiles turns his head, Derek goes back to chopping vegetables for the fajitas he’s making.

Stiles has already blackmailed the pack into saying how good they are, regardless of how they taste.

Stiles asks, “What? Why’re you staring at me?”

On the other side of the open floor plan, Issac whispers something to Lydia as the 'wolves pause the game abruptly.

Derek rolls his eyes, “Nothing.”

Stiles huffs, “Right. So I’m just supposed to ignore how all of you keep looking at me, I mean-”

All the ‘wolves stand up straight and look at each other. Derek mutters, “Jackson.”

Oh no.

Derek’s eyebrows are doing their thing. The thing Stiles associates with immediate danger, and they all rush down the stairs.

Stiles hates his luck, just as he’s about to find out why the pack’s been acting weird for weeks, something new shows up. He stops his pity party and rushes down the stairs.

Everyone else beats him down the stairs by a long shot.

When Stiles walks out of the building, the only new person on the street is Jackson. He tries using his spark to scope for a threat, but he doesn't know any spell for it, so his magic flickers and subdues. Derek is staring at the night sky, his eyes reflecting the twinkle of the stars as his eyebrows do their Thinking™ pose.

Everyone is standing in a circle, whispering urgently.

“What’s wrong?”

Jackson gives him a baleful look, ”We’ve already been over everything already, doofus. Why don’t you use your stupid magic to move quicker?”

Before Stiles can snark back, Derek chimes in, “Play nice.”

Stiles feels warm in his stomach. He laughs at Jackson’s irritated face and the rest of the pack also joins in, but Stiles feels like they’re laughing about different things.

Derek directs everyone’s attention back to the issue, by asking Jackson a question. Stiles notices that Derek’s ears are red for some reason.

“So what did you smell exactly?”

Jackson sighs, “I can’t explain it, Derek. I couldn’t smell a person, but there had been wolfsbane and Vervain in the area recently. I felt like, something was out to get me. I had to get back to the pack.”

Siles nods. He’s read in Deaton’s books that their extreme sense of smell can even help ‘wolves perceive emotions. Obviously, the smell of Wolfsbane and Vervain points to hunters.

But just not the normal ones.

Stiles lets out a sigh, “Supernatural hunters.”

Allison nods.

The pack looks at them, “What’re those?”

Allison explains, “Vervain is a herb that can be very harmful to elves and trolls. So, not many people in the supernatural world carry it around...”

Scott fills in the rest as he realises what they’re talking about, “So, anyone who’s carrying it, wants to harm different types of supernatural creatures.”

Stiles smiles. It seems that Scott has paid some attention to Deaton’s boring lectures.

Issac, Boyd and Jackson sputter, “Elves? There’s more than just werewolves.”

Allison smiles at them, “Maybe you should read the copies of the Beastiary I’ve given you.”

Derek calls out, “Alright, Enough. We’re still just speculating. Let’s go upstairs first and I’ll look into Jackson’s memory.”

The pack walks up the stairs slowly, letting Stiles keep up with them. Derek is at the front, supporting Jackson’s weigh. The beta’s run from the county’s border to Derek’s loft, he needs all the help he can get.

Derek lays Jackson stomach down on the couch and crouches down next to him. Stiles gulps. This isn't going to be easy for either of them.

Derek slowly pierces his claw into the back of Jackson’s neck. Jackson lets out a pained grunt. Derek's face gets consumed in a hurt expression. Stiles is sure that he feels more pain than Jackson, as he’s an Alpha, hurting his beta for no reason.   
Around Stiles, the ‘wolves also shudder as their pack bonds rattle.

Stiles, Lydia and Allison also feel it but not to the same extent.

They all crowd around Derek and Jackson. Memory transfers take a heavy toll on the health of the receiver.

Derek pulls his claw out of Jackson's neck. He crumples to the floor before Jackson's neck can start healing up. Issac and Stiles move towards Derek.

Stiles keeps a comforting hand on Derek's arm as Issac does the heavy lifting of moving Derek from the floor to the armchair next to the couch. Stiles tries to slowly move away, hoping to get Derek and Jackson a glass of water each.

But Derek latches onto his hand before he can move, he whispers urgently, "Hunter. It's a hunter." before passing out and slumping forward.

Stiles stays crouched down, Derek's head resting on the hollow between his shoulder and neck. Behind him, Stiles hears Issac complain, "Oh yeah, he tells Stiles. I'm just the one who's moved him around, ensured that he doesn't choke on his tongue. I mean I know Stiles is practically his b-" Issac yelps as someone smacks him, "Best friend." he stresses, "Best friend. As I was saying-"

Stiles huffs, "Hey, drama queen, help me put your alpha to bed."

-x-

They meet the next evening at Derek's loft, once the Alpha is a little healthier. Which is to say, barely able to walk. Derek has messed up parameters of health for himself.

The thought of the immediate threat keeps Stiles busy enough to not nag Derek about taking potion he's stocked everyone up with and to keep a good sleep pattern.

When everyone has gathered, Allison gives them the bad news. Her father doesn’t know the new hunter in town unless he’s hiding things from her again.

Derek’s first order of business is to divide them into groups. Everyone’s supposed to move with their group at all times. Derek doesn’t want anyone alone or distracted if they come across the hunter.

It’s the second part of the justification that pisses the pack of. Derek mutters about not letting teenagers have their way. None of the couples is together. It’s Scott and Boyd, Issac and Lydia and finally, Jackson, Erica and Allison.

Stiles and Derek end up together.

Issac huffs and mutters something which causes all the other ‘wolves to break out in giggles. Derek, however, rolls his eyes, only his ears go a little red, “Shut. Up.”

Jackson grumbles again, “This feels like a fucking school project.” He puts on a faux-innocent face, “Why can’t we choose our own partners, Mr Hale?”

Derek replies with a straight face, “Because if my betas are getting caught by hunters, I’d prefer for it to not be with their pants around their knees in the back of a car.”

The pack stays silent for a moment before breaking into giggles. Derek’s jokes are always quick, unexpected and delivered with a straight face.  
Jackson huffs.   
  
The clock behind Jackson reads 11:45. If they’re supposed to get to school on time tomorrow, then they need to get in bed now.

Stiles calls for everyone’s attention, “Has everyone decided where they’re staying?”

Scott nods, “I guess Boyd can stay with me, Allison and Erica can stay at Jackson’s place and Issac can go with Lydia?”

Stiles nods, “Right and who’s taking me and Derek?”

Scott is about to respond but stops abruptly. Derek replies from behind Stiles, “You’ll go to your house.”

Stiles falters but agrees. If Derek's serious about the whole "stay with your group" thing, then shouldn't they be sleeping over at someone's place? But it’s late and he just wants to sleep so he goes with it. The pack slowly moves out of the loft. Derek follows them to the door. Stiles only realises the difference when Derek locks the door.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m coming with you.”

“What? Why? I can go with any of these guys.”

Derek growls, “Stiles, what rule did we just talk about?”

Stiles replies sullenly, “Stay with your partner at all times.”

Derek nods and follows the rest of the pack down the stairs. Stiles drags his feet along.

Outside the building, the pack quickly splits up into groups, after a lot of unnecessary groping and kissing. Derek clears his throat and looks away. His eyebrows scream UNCOMFORTABLE.

Lydia snarks, “Well, you wouldn’t have to see this if you just let us go where we wanted.”

The street clears out quickly after that. Then, only Boyd, Scott, Stiles and Derek are left.

Stiles cracks a joke, “So, who’s kissing who now?”

All three ‘wolves freeze up. Stiles rolls his eyes, “Geez guys, no homo. It was a joke. Let’s just go home.”

Stiles and Scott move towards Roscoe, at the same time, Derek and Boyd open the doors of the Camaro.

Scott shakes his head, “Derek, no. I love you but we aren’t going to get in that matchbox car and I don’t want to sit on leather seats in this heat.”

Derek turns to look at Stiles, who shrugs, “I’m not leaving Roscoe behind.”

-x-

Derek and Stiles rumble onto Stiles’ street in Stiles favourite car, after dropping Scott and Boyd off.

Derek huffs when they get near his house. Stiles asks, “What?”

Derek replies, “Your dad is at home.”

Stiles snorts, “So? It’s not like you’re my boyfriend.”

Derek freezes up. Stiles looks at him from the corner of his eye, “Jeez man, I keep saying no homo. What is wrong with you?”

Derek asks slowly, “But are you, like no homo?”

Stiles snorts, “That’s the stupidest way of asking someone if they're straight.”

Derek shrugs, “But are you?”

“Straight?”

“Yeah.”

“Not even a little. When I first got a crush on Lyds, I wasn’t even sure if I liked her or the jock she was hanging out with. Thankfully, Jackson turned out to be a jerk, so he wasn’t my first guy crush, but yeah...”

Derek growls. Stiles soothes him, “Don’t worry. No one’s taking me away from the pack.”

They slowly pull into the driveway. Stiles shuts off the jeep.

Even though he knows the answer, he asks, “You’re going to climb through the window, aren’t you?”

Derek hums.

By the time Stiles clambers out of the car, Derek is already climbing up to his window.

When Stiles enters the house, his father is in front of the t.v., he looks from Stiles to the wallclock meaningfully.

Stiles has come in 5 minutes before his curfew ends.

Thankfully, his father doesn’t say anything. Stiles reminds himself not to look a gift horse in the mouth and walks up the stairs quietly.

When he opens the door it’s to see Derek pulling a blanket and pillow off the bed. Stiles asks slowly, after closing the door, “Hey, big bad wolf, we use the bed to sleep, not keep the pillows.”

Derek levels him with an unamused face and drops the pillow and blanket on the floor. The alpha’s gone crazy. Well, crazier than usual at least.

Derek asks softly, “do you have anything I might be able to fit into?”

Stiles looks Derek up and down, slowly. It’s the only chance he gets to consentingly look at the alpha’s figure, so he uses it to the best of his abilities.

Derek shuffles under his gaze. The alpha’s hips might be as narrow as Stiles’ but he’s got a lot more leg muscle to work with. Stiles ducks into his mess of a cupboard and pulls out an oversized Old Navy track pant his father had bought him a week ago and the biggest shirt he can find. Stiles knows that he should also look for a bigger shirt, but he subconsciously wants to see Derek in a smaller figure-hugging shirt.

Stiles flings both the track pants and a shirt at Derek, who catches both. Stiles gets up and turns sound to see Derek standing in the corner, eyeing the shirt mistrustfully.

Stiles chuckles, “You know how to wear that right?”

Derek holds out the shirt shyly, “I don’t wear a shirt to sleep.”

“Oh.”

Stiles grabs the shirt slowly and continues looking at Derek, who doesn’t move.

A moment later the alpha says softly, “Is it okay if I change here?”

“What? Oh. Yeah. Sorry- I’ll just- Uhh” Stiles walks out of his room quickly, closing the door behind him.

He can feel his face heating up. With nothing better to do, he walks down to the kitchen and drinks a glass of water. The t.v.’s been switched off and his father isn’t in the living room anymore.

When Stiles goes back upstairs, he sees Derek curled into the blanket on the floor, hugging the pillow. The soft moonlight glints off the sides of his soft stomach, which rises and falls with each breath.

“Uhh, hey Sourwolf. You can sleep on the bed, you know that right?”

“Shut up and go to sleep Stiles.”

“Jeez, no need to be so rude about it.”

Stiles clambers into his bed, his hopes of seeing a naked alpha being dashed.


	2. Soccer Mom Cedric

The next morning Stiles wakes up to see Derek lying on the floor, awake. He pokes the alpha’s thigh with his toe, “You don’t have to sleep on the floor, you know that right?”

Derek grumbles, “No space on the bed.”

Stiles laughs as he gets out of bed, “Wow, I’ve never been called fat like this before.”

Derek grumbles, “Not fat, just soft, I-” Derek stops abruptly.

Stiles turns around slowly. Derek’s looking away from him, his ears are tinged red. Stiles smirks, “Who knew, I just need to wake you up early to get a nice compliment.”

-x-

After cleaning himself up, Stiles drives them to Derek’s loft. Derek lets Stiles into the loft and walks towards the stairs to change his clothes.

Stiles asks slowly, “...Umm, so should I go?”

Derek turns around, “You haven’t had breakfast yet.”

“So?”

Derek furrows his eyebrows, like Stiles is an idiot, “Breakfast is necessary, Stiles.”

Stiles rolls his eyes, “ _Thanks, mom_.”

Derek huffs, “Wait here. I’ll be back in a moment to make breakfast.”

Stiles walks over to the window, staring at the street below him to pass the time.

Derek comes down quite quickly. Derek’s skin looks soft and warm after a shower. Stiles assumes the alpha likes scalding hot water because his face is a soft red colour.  
Stiles can’t help the smile on his face when he sees Derek’s outfit. Another pair of henleys and jeans. 

Derek quirks one eyebrow at Stiles in confusion. Even his eyebrows are fluffy after a shower, hair pointing in different directions.   
His eyebrows look softer than the hair on his head. They must feel different too, Stiles assumes. Stiles’ mind spirals as he wonders, what must Derek’s eyelashes feel like. His eyelashes fall on the soft apples of his cheeks, still red from his shower.   
The alpha’s face is also a thing of beauty, a mix of soft curves and hard planes. 

Stiles shakes his head and clears his throat, “Waffles! You can make waffles.”

Derek comments fondly as he walks to the kitchen, “Weirdo.”

When their breakfast is done, Derek insists on cleaning both their plates.

“Why can’t I wash my plate?”

Derek huffs, his face contorted in discomfort, “Because I’m saying so.”

“Dude, I feel weird. Let me help.”

Derek shoves into Stiles with his shoulder, “I’ve told you not to call me that.”

Stiles feels goosebumps rise over his bare arm where Derek touched him, “I- What? No. I’ll call you what I want and I can do the dishes too!”

Derek sets down the plate he’s washing and groans, “I didn’t say you couldn’t. I just wanted to p-”

Derek stops abruptly, his cheeks colouring.

Stiles quirks an eyebrow and smiles, “What were you going to say?”

Derek clears his throat, “Quit your whining. I’m the Alpha, you better listen.”

Stiles hums, “Okay. I was just trying to be a good guest. You should be thankful. I never help out when I’m at Scott’s. Sometimes Melissa just kicks us both out. She doesn’t like messes. Oh! That’s an idea, now that she knows about ‘wolves, why don’t you hang out with her? You’ll get along great! Both have OCD and questionable exes.”

Derek pinches the bridge of his nose, “You want me to make friends with an old lady?”

Stiles scoffs, “Hey! Don’t knock it till you try it. And you’re old now too, right?”

Derek looks unamused, “Why don’t you just leave me at an elderly home then next time we go out?”

Stiles laughs softly. 

When the dishes are done, Derek follows Stiles out of the loft. Stiles doesn’t complain, it’s only going to be a waste of time.

When they walk out of the building. Derek heads to his car again. 

“I told you before Derek, I don’t go anywhere without Roscoe.”

“Stiles, that jeep is running on fumes and I can’t let you get stuck in the middle of nowhere on my watch. You know I let you drive that jeep on other days-”

Stiles scoffs, “Let me? You don’t let me do anything, Derek. Don’t try to bully me.”

Derek growls and pulls at his hair in frustration, his eyebrows scrunched together, “I didn’t mean that. Just- why don’t you just listen to me.”

Stiles stands his ground, “No. You’re making me late for school.”

Derek lets out an aggravated growl, “We wouldn’t be late if you’d just listen to me.”

Stiles whines, “Ughh, fine.”

They get into Derek’s Camaro. When they pull into the parking lot, the entire pack is waiting for Stiles outside the building. 

Derek opens the door and Stiles gets out. When he’s halfway through the school crowd, moving towards the pack, Derek yells from the car. 

“I’ll come back to pick you up in the afternoon, Stiles. Have a great day, don’t forget to eat your lunch.”

The kids around Stiles burst into giggles as he stares open-mouth at Derek who peels out of the parking lot with a smirk on his face.

-x-

The day passes slowly as usual. Harris and Coach Finstock make their lives a living hell in Chemistry and Econ. 

The only respite he gets is when the entire pack hangs out during lunch. 

Even that is cut short when some jocks get into a food fight in the cafeteria and they’re all ushered back to class quickly.

So, when classes let out, Stiles as good as runs out of his English class. Jackson and Eric who share the class laugh as he rushes. Jackson calls after him, “Someone’s excited to see their ride.”

Erica adds slyly, “Mmhhmm, take that ride for a ride.”

Stiles doesn't bother to do anything other than flipping them off as he runs out. He’s had enough of school today, he’s okay with skipping lacrosse practise for one day, especially when his presence doesn’t make a difference. 

Derek pulls into the parking lot just as Stiles reaches. Instead of opening the door, Derek rolls down the windows and points to the kids in lacrosse jerseys who are walking towards the field.

“Why aren’t you going?”

“Because I’m always on the bench.”

“Stiles, if you don’t work for it, you aren’t getting off the bench ever.” 

“Like I care.”

“Lie.”

“Quit doing that!”

Derek sighs, “But I got all these protein shakes for you, in case you had practise.”

Stiles groans, “One day, Hale, one day, I’m going to learn how to ignore your blatant guilt traps. Then you won’t stand a chance against me.”

Derek climbs out of his car gracefully and smirks at Stiles, “Let’s cross that bridge when we get to it.” He pushes a pack of juice boxes into Stiles’ chest, “Right now, we need to get you to practise.”

Stiles drags his feet as Derek walks towards the field. It’s going to be a long evening. 

They see the entire pack sitting on the bleachers on the other side of the field, so Derek and Stiles begin walking towards them. Derek softly compliments the betas, “Good to see that you’re all sticking to your groups.”

Even though he says it at a normal volume, Erica, Issac, Boyd, Scott and Jackson hear him easily, passing on his message to Lydia and Allison. 

Allison shoots Derek a quick smile. 

Derek is a good alpha, Stiles decides. Not that he hasn’t realised this fact before, but the proof of Derek’s soft and caring nature makes Stiles feel warm all over, like a hug on a rainy day.

They’re just about to climb up the bleacher when Coach Finstock’s shrill voice halts them, “Cedric?”

Stiles only turns around to see which unfortunate kid’s name has Coach gotten wrong today. It’s only when Derek steps forward that Stiles realises that the coach is talking to _Derek_. 

“Good evening, Coach.”

Finstock nods, his haywire hair shaking even with all the product in it, “Haven’t seen you around since the last state championship.”

Before Derek can offer a polite reply, Finstock adds a back-handed comment, “Well, I mean that’s excluding the time when you went on a murder rampage around the school, but we didn’t meet then, so I’m not counting that.”

Stiles expects Derek to go into his aggressive alpha posture, but he remains slouched and smiling. Smiling at Coach Finstock. Stiles wonders if he’s in a nightmare, but he has the correct number of fingers.

Derek smiles at Coach, “Yeah. It’s nice to meet you again too, Coach.”

Stiles shakes his head, “Was anyone going to tell me that you were on the lacrosse team under Coach Finstock?”

Derek rolls his eyes, “How old do you think I am, Stiles?”

Before Stiles can answer, Jackson whispers under his breath, loud enough that Coach would also hear if he wasn’t so enamoured with seeing _Cedric_ in such a long time, “Ohhh, daddy.”

Stiles can’t help the heat on his face. The pack starts laughing uncontrollably. 

Coach asks Derek, “So, Cedric, what’re you doing here?”

Derek thumps Stiles on the back, shoving him forward, “I’ve been thinking about helping Stiles out with his practice.”

Helping? What the hell?

Finstock looks at Stiles like he’s only just noticed he’s there. He asks Derek sceptically, “Bilinski?”

Derek lets out a confused growl which Coach simply ignores. He “whispers” to Derek, while looking at Stiles, “Look, Cedric, I’m going to be honest, Bilinski isn’t a great potential if you know what I mean...Why don’t you-” Coach scans the field and the stands, his eyes glint when they latch onto the intended target, “Why don’t you help Jackson? He’s a great kid and with your help, he might even get the scholarship for an ivy-league school.”

Before Derek can answer, Coach turns around and walks away.

Stiles chuckles and asks Derek softly, “Is he just like you remember?”

Derek’s mouth twists, “Yup.”

With that, Stiles pushes off to the lockers to get changed. When he comes back, Coach is yelling at everyone to line up.

-x-

The practice is quite unusual in the beginning. As usual, Coach goes over the new plays and sets them into two teams to simulate a game and practise the plays, hoping to get a good nap in his office. 

Only, Derek starts yelling as soon as someone commits a foul that usually gets ignored. 

Horror slowly dawns on Stiles as he realises what Derek is. He’s a soccer mom. This might not be soccer, but Derek's enthusiasm is the same. He climbs down the steps quickly and lands in the grass, pointing at Greenburg, “That was a foul.”

Coach groans and turns around, “What is your damage, Cedric? I need my beauty sleep.”

Derek rolls his eyes, “You can go, I can take it from here.”

-x- 

Stiles evaluates his muscles in the shower. His body has never hurt this badly before. Without looking around, Stiles realises all the guys are taking extra time in the hot shower, hoping to gain some feeling back.

Stiles realises now, why the betas are usually so petulant when Derek trains them. Speaking of, the betas on the team are the only ones who don’t look dead on their feet.

Stiles feels the sorriest for all the humans on his team. They’re going to have to make do with muscle relaxants and gels, while he can easily whip up one of the remedies Deaton has taught him.

When Stiles gets out of the locker room, Derek’s waiting in his car. They drive to the loft first, change cars and head back to Stile’s house. 

Even though Stiles' father isn’t home, Derek climbs through the window.

That night, they both get into bed without any fuss. Running after a whole lacrosse team can tire an alpha out too. 

“Why do you always climb through the window?” Stiles asks sleepily. 

Derek shrugs, “Makes me feel strong.”

Stiles chuckles, his breath making Derek’s eyelashes fan out, “You know I’ve spelled the mountain ash barrier to let you in, right?”

Derek huffs, “Go to sleep, Stiles.”

Stiles yawns before replying, “Goodnight, Cedric.”

Derek grumbles, “I will kill you in your sleep.”

Stiles falls asleep before he can laugh.

-x-

The next morning, Stiles wakes up slowly, reaching his hands out for the warm body he expects to be next to him.   
His mind slowly comes back online and he realises exactly how weird and dangerous poking a sleeping person, especially an Alpha can be.

But he’s in luck today because the only things that meet him are a still-warm bed and ruffled sheets. Clearly, Derek has been up for a little while. 

Stiles sits up and rubs the sleep out of his eyes. He looks around the room, but Derek isn’t there.


	3. Starry nights and Curly Fries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before y'all start reading, please, please, please leave a comment. I swear I'm ready to kill for some interaction!

The alpha is extremely vigilant about following the rules he lays down, so not having him in the room kicks Stiles into overdrive.

  
Stiles flings himself out of the bed and towards his false-bottomed drawer. He pulls out the blue felt cover tome.   
Over the past month, Deaton gives him a book to keep when he masters its content. 

Stiles flips through the pages quickly, which are warm with his residual magic. The page he needs falls open on its own.   
  


The Re-Calling spell.

Stiles gulps. He should be using a locator spell, but he wants Derek in front of him. Right. Now. It's a spell used only for objects. and he's only been able to use it on things he's given to other people.

But it has to work now. 

He places his hand over the sigil, which has faded over time, on the coffee-coloured page and concentrated on Derek’s face, his smell, his “aura” like Deaton likes to call it pretentiously.

A second later there was a loud thump against the window as Derek gets flung onto it from the outside. Stiles yelps when Derek feel back with the inertia, onto the tiles of the roof. 

Stiles rushes to open the window and looks down at Derek, who's groaning in pain. Below them, Scott and Boyd are standing on the ground, looking at Stiles like he’s the crazy one. 

Stiles huffs, “I’m not apologising. I didn’t know where you were so I called you back.”

Derek, who’s in the middle of sitting up, stares at him with murder eyebrows, “You used a re-calling spell on me? You could have pulled my spleen out!”

Stiles shrugs, “Then the spleen would be the only part of you that followed the rule.”

Derek grumbles and sits up. Scott says loud enough for Stiles to hear, “So what should we do-?”

Derek flashes his eyes, “We just talked about this Scott.”

Both the betas bear their necks in response to the alpha's aggressive behaviour and Scott looks like a scolded puppy. 

Boyd puts a hand on Scott’s shoulder and nods at Derek, “We’ll figure it out.”

The two betas rush out of Stiles’ yard just as the sun begins to rise. Derek lets out another sigh before climbing in through the window. 

Stiles asks in what he hopes is a casual way, “What’s up with them?”

Derek replies just as casually, “Nothing.”

Stiles nods and walks off to the bathroom. He isn’t going to get a straight answer out of Derek just yet.

-x-

The day goes slowly. Jackson, Erica and Allison are missing and Scott and Boyd look dead on their feet.

Stiles tries asking them what the issue is, but he only gets mumbled responses in return. Lydia and Issac keep him company in the classes they share, but they too are busy holding secret conversations when they _think_ Stiles isn't looking.

When the day ends, Stiles is more than happy to run out the door to where Derek is already waiting for him. 

Stiles dumps his bag in the backseat and slides into the front seat next to Derek quickly. The alpha smirks, “I didn’t know you could get into a car without falling down.”

Stiles ignores the jab and gets to the point.

“Why weren’t Erica Allison and Jackson at school today?”

Derek shrugs as he pulls the car out of the parking lot, “How should I know?”

Stiles scoffs.   
  
_How should I know? For an alpha who loves to nag and hound his betas, Derek is acting suspiciously. The alpha is always ready to spam the betas with texts and voicemails when they’re missing. Not that Stiles grudges Derek’s helicopter parenting, considering his past. But the sudden lack of enthusiasm for the same is alarming._

Stiles pulls himself out of his inner monologue just as they reach the turn for the Deaton’s clinic. He has a “class” with Deaton on the days that Coach doesn’t schedule practises.

“I have to go-”

Before Stiles can finish his sentence, Derek’s pulling the car onto Deaton’s street. 

“How did you know where I wanted to go?”

Derek replies shortly, “Deaton’s place on days with no practice.”

Stiles quirks an eyebrow, “So, you remember my schedule but not the others?”

Derek covers quickly, but Stiles knows him well enough to see the quick flash of bewilderment on his face, “I’ll remember their schedules when they start spamming me with unnecessary voice notes at all hours of the day.”

Stiles rolls his eyes and drops his feet on the dash, “Whatever, I know you’re lying.”

Derek only shoves his legs off the dashboard as they slow down in front of the vet’s clinic. And that’s answer enough.

Outside, Deaton’s waiting for them in front of the clinic’s door. Stiles and Derek climb out of the car. 

Deaton nods at Derek and Stiles, “Derek. Stiles.” His head moving low enough for it to look like he’s almost bowing weirdly. 

But Stiles has become used to the man’s quirks. He repeats a parody of the man’s action, “Deaton.”

Derek growls unexpectedly, “Why’re you doing that?”

Stiles looks up to see Derek’s eyes flashing at Deaton, but his question is directed at Stiles. 

Stiles shrugs, “He started it.” Which is true. Deaton’s been acting weird for the past month, but it’s not too different from his usual quirkiness, so Stiles just went with it. 

Derek growls at Deaton.

The vet replies frankly, “I can’t not Derek. You know how important traditions are.”

Derek huffs and looks away. Clearly, he can’t argue with Deaton’s obscure explanation, but he still doesn’t like it. 

Stiles raises his hand tentatively, “Can someone explain these traditions for the novice spark, please?”

Deaton clears his throat and replies slowly, “As the new emissary to the Hale pack, you rank higher than I do. Therefore, traditions state that I must show you respect. However, by returning the gesture, you are establishing my superiority, which can be taken as a challenge to Derek’s authority.”

The druid’s trademark long-winded sentences make Stiles’ head ache. But he’s understood the gist of it. 

“So why didn’t you tell me this before?”

Deaton shrugs, “Between attacks by Alpha packs and hunters, this didn’t seem like a pressing issue.”

The druid looks at Derek to gauge his reaction. If his responding grumble is anything to go by, the explanation has satisfied him. 

-x-

When they start Stiles’ lesson for the day, Deaton rubs his hands together. Which is never a good sign. 

“Today I’m planning on teaching you how to bend the rules of magic.”

“What do you mean?”

Deaton smiles which only serve to set Stiles on edge even more, “Have you ever tried object spells on humans.”

Stiles can’t help the blush that creeps up his face as Derek groans loudly. 

Deaton turns to the alpha, “What?”

Derek shakes his head, “You’ll find that your novice has already started those spells.”

Deaton’s head whips back as he stares at Stiles, “What did you do?”

Stiles holds his hands up, “Calm down, no one got hurt.”

Derek growls at that and Stiles amends, “There wasn’t any permanent damage to anyone… I just used the re-calling spell on Derek.”

Deaton’s eyes widen in surprise, “Why did you do that?”

Stiles shrugs, “He wasn’t there when I woke up, I just tried something.”

Deaton nods, “And you were able to handle it?”

Derek interrupts, “No, I slammed into his window.”

Deaton nods, “Right I need you to practise the spell till you can handle it.”

Stiles startles, “You want me to keep banging Derek around?”

“No. I just bought a can of worms in the back for the gerbils that had been admitted. You can start practising on them.”

-x-

By the time Stiles and Derek leave the vet’s clinic, Stiles has seen enough worm guts to last a lifetime. 

Almost all his attempts had ended with the carcasses of worms being splattered around Deaton’s back room, which he had to clean up with Derek.

They quickly make their way to Derek’s Camaro as a light rain has started.

Stiles whines once he’s sitting in the car, his head thumping back against the headrest, “ I don’t understand what went wrong! I didn’t pull your guts out and you’re a whole assed human being! Those were just worms. I hate this so much.”

Derek shakes his head, “I’m not a human though. You didn’t pull my guts out cause I’m a werewolf. My body was able to handle the pressure. The worms died cause you couldn’t handle your spark.”

Stiles laughs, “Ohhh, ProfessorWolf.”

Derek rolls his eyes, “Shut up.”

They get in the Camaro and peel out. 

-x-

Instead of going to Derek’s loft to pick up Stiles’ jeep, Derek takes them away from the heart of the county. 

Stiles looks over at Derek, “You missed the turn for the den.”

Derek smiles wryly, “Oh, I totally forgot!”

Stiles replies with a deadpan, “Ha fucking ha, where are we going?”

Derek shrugs. 

A little while later as the rain increases, they turn onto the highway and Stiles realises where they’re going. _Stiles’ favourite place in Beacon Hills; No, his most favourite place in the world. Heaven on Earth…_

_Sadie’s._

Although it doesn’t look like much, a run-down diner tucked into a corner next to the highway, Stiles has been going there with his father for as long as he can remember. Sadie’s cultivated his love for curly fries and milkshakes. 

The flickering light of Sadie’s is visible through the car’s window, getting blurred by the raindrops. 

Stiles turns to Derek, smiling widely, “I.Love.You.”

He realises slowly, that maybe he shouldn’t be so blatant about his crush on the alpha, if Derek’s surprised face is anything to go by. But he tries to comfort himself because he would have said the same thing to the others if they had taken him to Sadie’s as a surprise. 

Derek parks the car and stops Stiles from opening the door. Instead, climbs out and rushes to Stiles’ side, holding his leather jacket over the door, in an attempt to shield him from the rain. 

As they both rush from the car towards the warm diner, Stiles feels goosebumps rise on his back. He tries to make himself believe that they’re from the cold and not from Derek’s arms surrounding him as he holds up the jacket. 

When they walk into the diner, relatively dry, Derek covers Stiles in the jacket, patting it down to keep him warm. 

Stiles knows he should insist on giving it back, considering that Derek is only wearing a henley and werewolf’s high body temperature be damned, he isn’t letting Derek get cold on his watch.

But, the smell of pine cones and soap that emanates from the jacket effectively stops his brain from working. When he wrestles back control from the primal part of his brain, Stiles realises that he’s still standing in front of the door, a hair’s breadth away Derek, who’s looking at him with a look that Stiles can’t describe. 

It pains him to admit that Derek’s eyebrows have an emotion that he doesn’t know about. Instead of wallowing in it, Stiles turns away to look for an empty table. Derek walks away a moment later to order their curly fries and milkshakes.

In true Sadie’s fashion, the order takes a long time to be served. So much so that by the time they’ve picked up their to-go bag and walked out of the diner, the sky has cleared.

Only, it’s late enough now that the clouds give way to bright stars. Derek stares at the sky just as they’re getting into his car and says, “Have you ever been to the roof above the loft?”

Stiles shakes his head, “I didn’t even know you had access to the roof!”

-x-

When they walk into the loft, Derek leads him up the spiral staircase. Stiles realises that he hasn’t even seen the alpha’s bedroom. 

Stiles reaches the top of the staircase two steps behind Derek to find an average looking room. Of course, due to the fire and his constant shifting, the room is a little sparsely decorated, but other than that, it looks lived in. There is one door in the wall opposite him, which Stiles assumes leads to the roof. Next to the door is a table and a chair, made of thick wood. A queen bed pushed against the wall in covered in fine cotton sheets and a truckload of blankets. In front of the foot of the bed is a thick, brown-coloured rug that takes up most of the floor space.

Next to the bed is a cupboard built into the wall, with clothes settled haphazardly. Of course, compared to Stiles’ cupboard, it looks much cleaner.   
What surprises Stiles the most is the abundance of colour in the closet. Stiles realises that Derek chooses to wear the drabbest colours 

Stiles thinks that if he was in charge of dressing Derek, he would make the alpha wear all the clothes that he’s shoved into the corner of his closet. 

Stiles’ inner monologue on Derek’s clothing stops when he realises that the Alpha is staring at him. 

Stiles also realises that the Alpha asked him a question, “What?”

Derek mumbles, “Is it good?”

“Your room?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure...It’s nice, I guess.”

“Okay.”

Derek abruptly opens the door and walks onto the roof, their bag of takeaway in his hands. That is officially the most abrupt and weird conversation he’s had with the alpha and Stiles wants to pursue it. But when he walks onto the roof, Derek’s already opened the bags of food and Stiles forgets everything under the influence of the smell of his favourite curly fries. 

As they munch on the fries and sip their shakes, Stiles stares up at the stars. The sky is exceptionally clear that day, so he realises he can ask Derek for the information he’s been needing in the past. 

“Hey, Derek.”

The alpha’s mouth is wrapped around the straw of his shake, but he hums in response listening to Stiles.

“Remember how you said you were going to teach me the constellations?”

Derek’s eyes twinkle in excitement. He sets down his milkshake lies down on the roof. He looks at Stiles expectantly. 

Stiles settles down next to him slowly. Stiles realises that maybe, _just maybe_ Derek knows how important he is.   
Because Stiles can easily look up all the constellations he wants on the internet, learn their placing, history, discovery and other stuff. Instead, he’s lying on the roof of a rundown building, with only a leather jacket to keep him warm as he listens to Derek describe the constellations.

Stiles hums and nods every time Derek pauses, but his eyes keep slipping shut. Derek slowly shifts his arm under Stiles, allowing his to curl into the alpha’s warm chest. 

Stiles falls asleep to the steady thump of Derek’s heart and his soft voice describing the constellations.


	4. John "done-with-this-shit" Stilinski

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please leave a comment...  
> -Your friendly interaction-starved writer

Stiles wakes up slowly. He groans and rolls over. His bed doesn’t usually feel this warm or soft… now that he thinks about it, his bed isn’t even this big.

Stiles should run away from wherever he is, but the soft sheets of the bed and it’s warmth clutch Stiles, who only opens his eyes and stares at the room.

Derek is standing by the open door that leads to the roof, facing Stiles. The light of the rising sun casts a halo behind his head. He looks worried, on-edge.

Stiles tries to lighten the mood by asking him, “Were you watching me sleep?”

Derek shakes his head like he can’t believe he’s friends with an idiot like Stiles. Stiles mocks him even more, “Oh, what shiny skin you have, Mr Wolf.”

Derek’s stress dissolves into a barely hidden smile at that and Stiles feels a warmth rise in his gut over having solved at least some of the alpha’s stress. He climbs out of Derek’s bed slowly, hating the fact that he can’t stay there forever. 

Derek nods at the in-suite bathroom, “I’ve taken out a spare brush for you. Why don’t you come downstairs in five minutes for breakfast?”

Stiles hums and walks to the bathroom slowly. Just as he’s about to close the door, he realises that his father didn’t have a night shift yesterday. 

He opens the door again and skids onto the wooden floor of Derek’s bedroom. The alpha who's on the first steps of the landing turns to face him, obviously having detected the shift in his scent.

“What’s wrong?”

“My dad, he didn’t have a night shift yesterday! I didn’t go home, he’s going to ground me forever Derek. Now you’ll have to hang around my bedroom forever!”

Derek shook his head and asked Stiles slowly, “So what can we do now?”

“Nothing! Derek, how do you not understand? There is nothing to do. My death is imminent.”

Derek rolls his eyes, “No, you can still make a good impression if you show up at your house not looking like you’ve slept under a bridge.”

Stiles cuts a glance to the mirror in the corner. He’s slept in his clothes from yesterday, which look rumpled and have spots of drool on them. Stiles only realises a moment later that, the drool spots are on Derek’s jacket… which he’s still wearing. 

Stiles turns to look at Derek meekly, “I’ll get this dry cleaned.”

Derek replies, “No!”

His unexpected volume makes Stiles almost jump out of his skin. Stiles holds his hands up, “Come on man, it’s the least that I can do.”

Derek replies softly, reigning his emotions in, “No, it’s fine. I’ll take care of it.”

Stiles nods, it’s been a long time since he’s been fazed by Derek’s emotional rollercoaster, “Okay. I’ll just, fix myself? And then we can leave...”

Derek nods, “Breakfast first.”

Stiles turns back to the bathroom without giving him an answer, it’s useless to argue with the alpha.

-x-

Stiles looks at himself in the bathroom mirror. When he looks kind of okay, Stiles walks out of the bathroom. 

That’s when the loft’s door opens loudly. Stiles startles. Who would show up at the loft this early? The betas usually sleep for as long as possible. Stiles creeps to the mouth of the stairs, trying to get a good look at whoever’s come in. 

That’s when he hears Jackson and Derek’s voices, which are audible to Stiles if he concentrates enough. Stiles assumes that in their urgency, they’ve forgotten that he’s still around. 

“Yes, he was here! I don’t know-” Derek says, impatiently.

They ruffle a sheet of paper around, which makes their voices hard to hear.

Jackson says shortly, “How did you not figure it out- if he was here, what might he have-”

“I know, Jackson. Stiles was here.”

Stiles decides that he isn’t going to get any answers unless he goes down to ask questions. He steps on the stairs loudly, alerting the ‘wolves, whos conversation ceases immediately. 

“Who came here?” Stiles asks. 

Derek looks like he’s at the end of his rope, without any explanation. Jackson starts talking.

“Peter came by.”

Stiles shakes his head, “He couldn’t have been here. I’ve fixed my mountain ash at the loft’s door.”

Jackson amends, “He took a round of the building. I smelt him when I was doing my patrol with Allison and Erica.”

Stiles huffs, “So now we have a hunter _and_ Peter? I don’t want to jinx us, but could this get any worse?”

Derek huffs, “Let’s get you back home first, then we can figure everything else out.”

Stiles frets, “But how are we going to handle him?”

Derek shrugs, “It doesn’t matter right now.”

Jackson nods at the nods of them, “I’m going then.”

-x-

Stiles stops the jeep at the top of his street and pulls his key out. Derek raises an eyebrow, “Stiles, your house is 500 meters that way.”

Stiles huffs, “If I take Roscoe home, dad might realise that I wasn’t at home.”

Derek replies sarcastically, “Of course. Your dad the sheriff won't see an empty bed and think, that his son's missing. No, no, the lack of the jeep will be the deciding factor.”

Stiles huffs, “Just listen to me, okay? I’ve been doing this for the past four years.”

Derek nods and jumps out of the jeep after Stiles, “Why do I get the feeling that you’re going to make us climb through the window?”

Stiles shrugs, “Because I’m going to make us climb through a window.”

-x-

Stiles pulls Derek back to stand in the shadow of a tree as he stares at the house. Stiles whispers furiously, “What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m going to climb through the window? Like you asked me to?”

“So who’s going to help me?”

Derek quirks an eyebrow, “Can’t you levitate yourself yet?”

Stiles shakes his head, “Did you not see what I did to the worms yesterday, Derek? Didn’t you see? I can only levitate things, Derek. And I am not a thing!”

Derek runs a hand over his eyes, like carrying Stiles is going to be a pain for him.

“Okay, your dad is still in his room. I think he’s sleeping.”

Derek takes his hand and leads him along their fence towards Stiles’ window. Derek’s hands are hard and rough, the paws of a ‘wolf. When Cora had been around, Stiles had seen her rub a moisturiser into the alpha’s paws after full moons. Stiles realises that since she’s left, no one has been doing it for Derek. Stiles decides to ask the alpha about it later.

Derek stops them when they’re close enough to the window and whispers, “Don’t scream.”

Stiles doesn’t have enough time to process the command before Derek pulls his into a firman’s carry and leaps onto the roof.

Stiles screams.

Derek jolts and slips a little, a few slats fall down and crash. Derek barely holds onto the window sill. 

He mutters lowly, “Your dad’s coming.”

“What’re you waiting for then? Jump down!”

“Stiles, I can either put you in the bedroom or drop you to the ground.”

Stiles gulps. It’s a difficult choice but Stiles opts to face his father’s anger and not a few broken bones. 

He climbs into his bedroom just as the door opens. His father walks in, “Stiles, Where have you be-”

His dad stops mid-sentence. Stiles realises that the situation must look extremely weird. Stiles is standing with one foot outside the window, where an ex-accused murderer is standing. 

Stiles’ father rubs his index finger and thumb across his eyebrow and sighs, “I give up. Do what you want. I’m going to the station. We’ll talk later.”

Derek nods at his father, “Sheriff.”

His dad acknowledges him, “Derek.” before leaving through the door and promptly walking out of the house. A moment later, Stiles hears the tell-tale sign of his father’s car leaving. Derek climbs into his room a moment later. 

Before Stiles can settle on his bed, Derek grads him down the stairs by the scruff of his neck. 

“You’re not sleeping again. You’re late enough. I’ll make you some breakfast and then you can go to school.”

Stiles snorts, “You’d make a good house-husband some day Derek.”

Derek huffs out a laugh and shoves Stiles towards the table in the kitchen. 

-x-

Stiles asks Derek, between bites of his pancake, “I’m free after school today.”

Derek huffs, “I know.”

“So, what do you want to do?”

Derek stiffens. His fork is frozen halfway to his mouth. Stiles backtracks quickly, “I mean not that we _have_ to do something. It’s just that, if we’re going to have to stick together, I’d rather that we do something fun…But I’m fine either way. I’m sure you must want a break from me.”

Derek clears his throat, “No, It’s not like that. I do want to hang out with you… It’s just that I was thinking about going after Peter?”

Stiles nods, “Yeah. I can help with that.”

Derek shakes his head, “Stiles, I have to do this alone.”

Stiles nods, “Okay, but then what about the rule?”

Derek looks down at his empty plate, “Don’t worry, I’ve spoken to the pack, they’ll stay with you today.”

He picks up his plate and puts it in the dishwasher. 

Stiles calls out to him as Derek walks out of the door, Roscoe’s key in his hand, “But what about you?”

Derek turns to look at him as he opens the door, “I can take care of myself.”

Stiles replies with another question, “The rule isn't meant just for my safety, Derek!"

He quickly finishes his pancakes, adds his plate to the dishwasher and walks out of the house. 

He gets sits in the jeep for a moment after taking the keys from Derek.

“You’re hiding something, right?”

Derek doesn’t answer, but Stiles can read him like a book.

Stiles shrugs, “I’m not upset.” He wants to prove to the alpha that he’s just as mature as the rest of the pack. That he can handle whatever’s going on just as well as them. 

But Stiles can’t keep himself from ranting. Stiles parks the car on the corner of the street and turns to look at Derek, “Actually, you know what? I am upset. I’m upset that you don’t value me as much as everyone else in the pack. That I have to keep working to gain your trust every step of the way while you just prance around with everyone else, holding secret tea parties and telling them everything.If you don’t want me around and you have to do is say it!”

The ride to the school is short and quiet. Derek seems lost in thought. Stiles scolds himself, he should know better than to pick a fight with the alpha before he heads off to meet his uncle.

When Stiles parks the jeep in the parking lot, he sees the pack pulling into the school as well. 

Stiles stays inside the car as the pack walks towards them. 

“Derek-”

“I’m not listening to this again. Once the pack’s here, I’ll leave.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that I missed out on yesterday's update! Also I'm aware that there are a lot of spelling and grammar errors, I'll get around to fixing it later. Sorry for the inconvenience!!


	5. A patronising pack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just buffing up the final chapters. The change in chapter numbers was also extremely abrupt, sorry for that. But I couldn't find a better way to break down the final bits and for that I'm really sorry. It's just that I got carried away with the final piece...

As they make their way into the school, the pack is suspiciously quiet. Stiles can’t fault them for it. Nobody would have expected them to fight so abruptly. 

Scott asks him softly, though Stiles doesn’t doubt that the rest of the pack can hear them, “Did you tell him?”

At some point, Stiles might have been freaked out about the fact that pack would hear about his crush on Derek, but how does it matter when the alpha in question doesn’t even trust Stiles. 

Stiles shrugs, “No, I didn’t tell him.”

Jackson wonders out loud, “Then how’d you land up in his bed? Derek doesn’t seem like the guy who would sleep with someone no strings attached.”

Stiles chokes on his spit. Erica smacks Jackson across the head, “It isn’t no strings attached for Derek, you idiot. You know how he smells when Stiles is around.”

Jackson replies snootily, “Sorry if I don’t go around sniffing the alpha, like a creep.”

After Scott has thumped him on the back twice, Stiles replies, “Is that what you guys thought happened? Jeez, no. We just spent the night on his rooftop looking at constellations. I guess I just fell asleep then, so I guess he let me sleep in his room. And thanks for the concern Erica, but Derek is not interested in me. I think you need your nose checked.”

The rest of the day, the pack keep their word to Derek. Stiles isn’t left alone for even a moment. The constant hovering makes him feel a little suffocated, but he doesn’t want to curb the pack’s instinct to nurture, Stiles tries to stomach the patronising feeling. 

By the end of the day, Stiles is so tired that he forgets that he has to go home and face his father. The impending wrath is enough to make Stiles slump in his seat as his teacher drones on about geometry. 

When he walks out of class, he’s followed by Boyd and Lydia. Stiles expects them to leave him alone at least when he goes home, but it becomes apparent that he isn’t getting any privacy when they climb into his jeep after his and the rest of the pack follows him home.

It’s only when the entire pack plonks itself in different parts of his house as he sits down to do his homework, that Stiles loses it.   
He’s never looking for pity, but Stiles can see the difference between himself and everyone else. They’re all playing games, laughing and eating as he ploughs through their English assignment. 

“Guys.”

The different noises around the house stop quickly. Stiles doesn’t need to raise his voice to get their attention. 

“Could you leave? I need to do my work, and you’re all very distracting.”

It’s Jackson, who answers as he’s sitting on Stiles’ bed with Allison, “But then who will protect you?”

Stiles hates himself for successfully reigning in the urge to turn Jackson into a toad. 

-x-

His dad walks in when Stiles is kicking the entire pack out. The pack leaves easily knowing that someone is going to be around to protect Stiles. He doesn’t know if he should feel thankful or irritated; Had he yelled at them anymore, it feels like he would have lost his voice.

His father, who’s standing in the doorway in his uniform asks, “So, are you going out today as well, or can we talk?”

Stiles shakes his head, “I’m not going anywhere.” and trudges indoors after his father. 

They settle in the living room. Stiles wonders how he’s supposed to assure his father than they aren’t indulging in any unsavoury activities even if they meet at nights and don’t talk otherwise, without revealing Derek to be a werewolf. 

His father starts the conversation, “I think you know what this is about son.”

“Dad, Derek isn’t a bad guy. You know-”

His father holds his hand up, asking Stiles to politely shut up, “I just want to say, I’m proud of you son. Not many people would have the guts to approach someone with his past and try to help them in their moments of weakness.”

Stiles tries not to let his surprise be too evident on his face. Derek? Weakness? Did his father mistake Derek for someone else?

Stiles tries to cover up his gap in the conversation, “Oh yeah, you know me. I’m always helping the little guy out.”

His father shakes his head, “I know you don’t like to be mushy. But I’m proud of you. Since the day that Derek walked into the station, I haven’t ever seen someone go out of their way to comfort him or even talk to him on the anniversary.”

A heavy block settles into Stiles’ stomach. He yelled at Derek for wanting some one on one time with his only family member around and Stiles yelled at him. Called him distrustful for it. 

Stiles hasn’t ever felt like vomiting this hard. He excuses himself from the living room quickly. 

“Dad, I have to go. Ya’ know, homework and shi-stuff.”

Stiles walks up the stairs slowly and falls into bed after closing the door. One part of him wants to rush to the loft and beg for Derek’s forgiveness. He can’t bear putting himself in Derek’s shoes right now. Because the alpha’s been extremely lenient with him. 

Stiles remembers all the times he’s been short-tempered, upset and irritable with people around him, for no fault of theirs during his mother’s death anniversary. Stiles knows for a fact that if he had been in Derek’s position, the other person would have been a dismembered corpse right now. 

But the least he can do now is to let the Alpha pass the remaining day with his family and not cause further strife.

He decides to apologise to the alpha the next day, or whenever they meet next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments and kudos are appreciated.  
> *Also I realise that Stiles would most probably have memorised the date of the fire, but bear with me for the sake of this fic...


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning, Stiles wakes up dizzy, never having forgotten why he’d ended up asleep on top of the covers in his jeans and flannel. 

He slowly rolls out of bed, contemplating ways to apologise to Derek, that won’t make the alpha hate him more.

Halfway through his scheming, as he’s brushing his teeth, Stiles’ father calls out that he’s leaving for the station. 

The house becomes much more silent and Stiles contemplates not going to school. Whether he meets and apologises to Derek or not, he’s going to have to tell Scott what’s happened. Which means that the whole pack will know how nastily he behaved with the alpha. And believe it or not, he likes being a part of the pack now. He doesn't want to tear it apart with his stupid mistake.

Stiles walks down the stairs, thinking about what breakfast he should eat while moping when the Camaro pulls into the driveway. Stiles rushes out of the door, apologies ready on his tongue, uncaring of how much of a barn animal he looks like. 

Derek’s sitting in the driver’s seat, wearing his usual shirt and jeans, which look a little worse for the wear. And his jacket, which looks like it's hasn't been washed yet?

Stiles ducks down to look in through the window, “I’m really sorry Derek. I didn’t mean any of what I said.”

Derek nods jerkily. When he turns to look at Stiles, he realises exactly how sad the alpha is. His eyes are red-rimmed and his face looks shallow and gaunt. 

“So you know.”

“Yeah.” 

There’s never been a point in lying to a werewolf anyway. 

“I don’t need your pity, Stiles.”

“And I’m not pitying you. I’m just apologising for what I said. I don’t get a say in your life regardless of what position I might hold in the pack in the future. So, I’m sorry for acting entitled.”

Derek shakes his head, “Are you going to school like this today?”

Stiles knows a change in the topic when he sees one. 

“I-I wasn’t planning on going.”

Derek turns his Alpha gaze on Stiles, flashing his eyes, “You know how important education is.”

Stiles huffs but turns towards the door. 

“Alright, I’ll change. But you have to make me pancakes for the hard work I’m doing.”

Derek follows him in without any response. And with Derek’s track record and the inability to see his face, Stiles assumes that the lack of an answer can either be positive or negative.

-x-

Stiles runs down the stairs eager for his pancakes. Derek looks at his watch. “Hurry up, I have to go somewhere after I drop you off to school.”

Stiles lets out a garbled response with his mouth full of pancake, “Ohh where’re you going?”

Derek freezes again. And Stiles feels like he’s shot himself in the foot and eaten the foot for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

This is how their last argument had started. 

Stiles swallows the bite of pancake quickly, “You- You don’t have to answer that. It’s fine.”

Derek replies slowly, “I’ll be spending the day at Laura’s.”

Stiles nods, “That’s cool. So I guess I’ll patrol in the evening with someone else?”

Derek shakes his head, “I’ll be here I think by then. So there’s no need to worry.”

Stiles bites his tongue. Derek’s been acting patronisingly protective for the past month almost. But Stiles doesn’t want to start an argument just when they’ve made up. 

Derek must misconstrue his anxiety over their almost-argument, because he tries to assure him, “Don’t worry. I’ll tell the pack to protect you.”

“No thanks. They’re jerks.”

“Alright. I’ll tell them to note it down.”

“I don’t want you to tell them anything.”

“...But you want them to stay away?”

“Which I can manage on my own!” Stiles tries to control his volume and tries again, “I don’t need you and the pack hounding me all the time Derek.”

Derek holds up his hands, “Alright. You can take care of it.” Derek looks at his empty plate. 

“If you’re done, can we leave?”

Stiles nods and stashes his plate away. They step out of the house and Stiles decides to take his jeep rather than sit in the Camaro. 

That would leave him with no option other than driving back home with someone from the pack.

Thankfully, Derek doesn’t say anything. When they reach the school Derek stops his car outside the parking lot. 

When Stiles pulls into his space, however, he realises that Derek must have already spoken to the pack.   
Their cars and bikes are here, but the pack isn’t sitting in their usual place each the main doors of the school.

Throughout the day, the pack stays away from Stiles for more than usual. No one walks into his stall in the bathroom when he “takes too long”. But that doesn’t mean that the betas aren’t paying attention to him. Wherever he goes, whatever he does, Stiles can constantly feel the back of his neck prickle due to their stares. 

As the only spark in the pack, and also it’s emissary, Stiles knows that he has to deal with the pack being protective, but he didn’t think that it would ever get this bad.

Stiles gets in his car and drives home in relative silence. With his father at the station, the house is quiet and empty. 

Stiles sits down to get some actual work done for the first time in the week. 

-x-

Stiles doesn’t expect the doorbell to ring half an hour before Derek’s supposed to take him for the patrol. 

Stiles doesn’t expect the pack to be on the other side of the door. The seven teenagers are standing in his porch, where usually even Stiles and his father find it difficult to stand, shoulder to shoulder.

“Hey, Stiles. We’re sorry that we treated you like you couldn’t handle yourself.”

“Derek’s sent you, hasn’t he?” Stiles asks shortly.

Allison shakes her head, “No we haven’t spoken to him about this. We just felt like he had to apologise.”

Stiles thinks about giving them shit more, but that’s when his eyes land on their hands. They bring pizzas, games and curly  _ fries _ ...Stiles’ mind goes into its primal state.

Stiles only realises something’s wrong when halfway through his second COD game with Allison. He stands up abruptly, his controller clatters to the floor. 

“What’s the time?”

His phone flickers to life. 9:30 p.m.

“Shit.”

The phone screen glares back, the time changing to 9:31 p.m.

Stiles looks at the pack, who are all failing at looking nonchalant. 

“Why hasn’t Derek called me?”

Over the past three days (honestly speaking, Derek always does this, but now it’s far more frequent), Derek messages and calls him when Stiles isn’t where he promised to be. Stiles doesn’t want to decide how much time Derek can spend at Laura’s grave, but usually, the alpha doesn’t like staying around the burnt house or his sister’s grave for longer than a few minutes.

This is extremely weird.

Scott can’t lie ever, so Stiles focuses on him. 

“Why hasn’t he called?”

Scott looks away, “Uhh- I don’t know? Maybe the hunter got him?”

For a moment, Stiles’ heart stutters, before he pulls himself away from the panic. Scott is obviously lying. Nothing’s happened to Derek.

“You’re lying.”

Scott deflates. Lydia throws Stiles abandoned controller at Scott, “Don’t even say that as a lousy excuse.”

Stiles turns to everyone else, “Tell me honestly, what’s wrong with him. He’s been acting very weird since the day before yesterday.”

The entire pack shares a look and Erica starts talking, but Stiles already knows that they’re going to hide something, “He didn’t want to take you out, in case the hunter attacked. So he asked us to protect you.”

Stiles scoffs, “Protect me? Excuse you, I have a bat and a spark. I can take great care of myself just fine.”

Allison puts on a sarcastic saccharine, “Really, a bat and some spells you’ve barely mastered? Against a gun-totting hunter with bows and arrows? Really Stiles, have you taken classes from Chuck Norris that we don’t know about?”

Stiles asks slowly, “How do you know what the hunter’s carrying?”

Allison covers quickly, “We all have the same weapons.”

But Stiles knows her well enough to see the lie. 

“No. That’s not the truth.” Stiles stares at everyone with a piercing glare, “What. Do. You. Know?”

Scott breaks easily, “I saw him when I went on patrol.”

Scott was on the roster for the first night after Jackson had smelt the hunter. Three days. They’ve known all this for the past three days.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

Boyd shrugs, “Derek didn’t want to stress you out.”

Stiles clicks his jaw. He might be the token spark of this group, but he doesn’t need to be coddled this much.

He takes a deep breath before asking further questions. Exploding in anger is useless, especially when Derek isn’t there to bear the brunt of his wrath.

He asks, “Right, so Derek’s gone to meet this hunter?”

Lydia answers, “Yeah. There was a letter from him to Derek in the P.O. box yesterday morning. He wanted Derek to meet him behind Sadie’s right now.”

Sadie’s is Stiles’ favourite place to get curly-fries. Stiles reels himself in from the daydream about fries and focuses on the pack. 

Stiles can’t stop his voice from rising, “Yesterday morning?” Stiles casts a quick voice charm on Jackson and clarifies, “You mean the day that Peter came by the loft?”

Issac quirks an eyebrow, “When was peter here?”

Stiles drops the charm and points at Jackson, “So you lied that day too!”

“Dude, Derek told me to just say something. I couldn’t not listen to him.”

Stiles shouts, “Enough.  _ Protect Stiles, coddle him, don’t stress him out. _ ” The entire pack cowers in the face of his anger, “If I’m such a burden, why don’t I just leave?”

Erica and Scott grumble, “No.”

Stiles huffs, “We’re talking about this, but first we need to get the dipshit alpha back.”

Just as Stiles turns to the door, the wolves growl and jump between him and the door. They face the door, hunched into aggressive positions in their beta forms. 

Stiles rolls his eyes and flicks his wrist just hard enough that the ‘wolves get shoved into the walls. He walks towards the door. __

He doesn’t have time for their drama. If the hunter already has their alpha then getting them all too isn’t going to be that difficult.   
He’d rather cut to the chase than go through boring diplomacy talk.

Stiles opens the door to see Derek standing on the border of the yard, in his beta form, being supported by an unknown man. 

Stiles hasn’t ever been so thankful for the broken streetlight by their yard. Derek’s shift can’t be seen in the dark. 

The man tries to introduce himself, “Hello, I-”

Stiles waves his introduction. The fact that he doesn’t have a gun or arrow out relegates him to a later priority.

Stiles turns his attention instead on Derek, “Where the hell were you? What is wrong with you?”

Derek glares at him but doesn’t say anything. 

The man adds, “I’m extremely sorry. He won’t be able to answer you right now.”

Stiles turns to him, pulling his spark up so that it’s visible under his skin, “What have you done to him?”

The pack walks out of the house slowly. The ‘wolves have their claws out, Allison has her crossbow and Lydia stands behind them all. 

The man falters, “It was an honest mistake. The alpha assumed I was here to ask for a fight, so he attacked me, I had to sedate him so that he wouldn’t be able to move.”

Stiles glowers and the man adds, “Don’t worry. It’s Orkile, not Wolfsbane.”

Allison asks, using her knowledge of the intricacies of Werewolf and Hunter interaction, “Hello Hunter, I am Allison Argent, a beta of the Hale pack.” The man raises an eyebrow at the name, but it’s more curious rather than condescending, “What is your business with our pack? You have returned our alpha, if you have no further purpose, take leave.”

The man nods. Clearly, he understands Allison better than he does Stiles. The man nods his head, “Hello, Allison Argent. I am Anthony Woodrow, a supernatural healer.”

Allison’s voice hardens, “The Hale Pack does not appreciate lies. How can a healer carry wolfsbane.”

The man replies confidently, “I may be a healer by nature, but I am not willing to sacrifice my safety for any reason.”

Allison narrows her eyes, “Very well. State your purpose.”

The man nods again and turns towards Stiles, “Alpha-mate Hale, I am here to ask for forgiveness for having harmed your Alpha.”

Stiles hears the pack’s collective intake of breath. He tilts his head and speaks slowly, “My name is Stiles Stilinski.”

The man repeats, “Very well. I stand here to ask you forgiveness, Alpha-mate Stiles.”

Stiles shakes his head, “What the hell is an alpha-mate?”

The man stares at Derek in surprise.

Derek is unable to do anything other than stare at the ̶h̶u̶n̶t̶e̶r̶ healer  sullenly.

The man sighs and turns to Stiles, “I must have misspoken. I ask your forgiveness, Stiles Stilinski, beta of Hale pack.”

Stiles concentrates on forming a barrier to confine the healer in place.

“No, this isn’t going to fly. You,” Stiles points at Anthony, “are coming in, to explain whatever the fuck an alpha-mate is. And you,” He points to Derek, “are going to take the potion I brew and listen to my rant.”

Stiles walks into the house. The entire pack is sitting on the porch looking anywhere but at Derek and Stiles. As they make their way in, Stiles says, “You guys will also get a nice lecture. But right now you can go home and get some sleep. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

The pack shuffles out of the house slowly. Derek glares at them until they’re out of sight.

Stiles takes the hunter and Derek to the kitchen. Making Derek lie down on the counter, with a swift flick of his wrist as Anthony makes himself comfortable on one of the chairs.

Stiles begins preparing the antidote and takes out his mortar and pestle. He looks at Anthony, “Where’d you hit him?”

Anthony points to Derek’s jaw, where a red welt is visible. Stiles nods, “Right. Also, please start talking. Fair warning, it better not be bullshit or I will end you.”

Anthony starts, “Were-animals are born from the Greek myth of soulmates. Due to the lack of a full soul, Weres are more in contact with their animal side.”

Stiles interrupts Anthony, “Right, yeah. I’ve read the introduction to Werewolves in the bestiary too, Anthony. Get to the important bit.”

“That is the important bit.”

Stiles drops the pestle into the mortar with a loud clatter, “I’m sorry, what?”

Anthony replies with a question. The more they interact the more he reminds Stiles of Deaton, “I just said it, Alpha Stiles, you are the other half of Alpha Hale’s soul.”

Stiles takes a deep breath, “Give me a moment to process this.”

He goes over everything he’s read and what Anthony is telling him as he takes the fine paste out of the mortar and adds a few herbs to it.

Stiles takes the mix and slowly applies it to Derek’s jaw. It should cool his skin very quickly because of the mint. 

Stiles runs his fingers over Derek’s jaw, willing his skin to absorb the ointment quickly. When the green paste slowly starts disappearing, Stiles pats his jaw comfortingly and looks up. 

Anthony is staring back at him intently. Stiles sighs, “Right, so first off, quit calling me alpha or whatever, it’s Stiles, okay? And secondly, why am I Derek’s soulmate. If what you’re saying is true, shouldn’t he stop shifting or something? I mean he has known me for months now.”

Anthony shakes his head, “No Al-Stiles, the concept of mates isn’t as arbitrary as you’re making it out to be. Soulmates aren’t a divine pre-determined individual. The werewolf can choose it’s own mate subconsciously. But at the same time, you must realise that being a werewolf is as much a part of Alpha Hale’s DNA as being a human is in other people. Finding a soulmate rarely ever leads to the wolf retreating from the subconscious.”

Stiles asks his next question, “So why haven’t I read about this in any bestiary?”

Anthony replies, “You forget, most bestiaries are made by hunters who are more interested in killing Weres than understanding their way of life.”

Stiles’ eyes skitter down to Derek’s face, which is still resolutely stiff. He knows that Anthony’s dart of Orkile is just as harmful to a werewolf as a sprained ankle, but seeing Derek like this doesn’t comfort him at all.”

Stiles pulls his spark up once more, even though Deaton’s warning echos in his head,  _ always let your magic replenish. _

He wills Derek’s skin to absorb the ointment again.

Anthony gestures to Stiles’ hand, which is cupping Derek’s jaw, “This is what I’m talking about!”

“What?”

Anthony persists, “How many of your other pack members can you do this for?”

Stiles looks up sharply, “Are you trying to imply that I don’t help my pack?”

Anthony almost yells in fear, “No! I did not mean that at all. Quite the opposite. You must realise how easy it is to imbue the alpha with your magic.”

“So?”

“You are compatible.”

Stiles rolls his eyes, “Look man, when Derek wakes up, he’ll explain everything to you. You’re just confused.”

Stiles looks down at Derek who is glaring daggers at Anthony. This explanation is going to include quite a unique selection of swear words as well. Stiles stares at Derek for a moment more.

Anthony says softly, “He will heal in a while. The paralysis will pass soon, your medicine will have helped him greatly.”

Stiles presses his fingers against Derek’s jaw and moves to sit in front of Anthony. He asks, “Why are you here, though? As far as I know, healers can only be called by supernatural beings can call you. And I am not aware of anyone who might have contacted you.”   
  
He feels foolish to have forgotten that there isn’t just a single breed of humans who are aware of the supernatural. Hunters only make up a small percentage of them. Healers are often called upon by the supernatural world, not just for the remedies they provide but also as mediators.

“A group of fae have set up a haunt outside the county’s border. They called upon me for assistance.”

“But why did you have to enter the county?”

“They asked me to speak to the Spark of Beacon Hills to allow them entry into the preserve.”

“Why can’t they come in?”

Anthony gapes at him, before replying wondrously, “How can you have such a loose grasp of your powers?”

Stiles frowns and pokes the man’s arm from across the table, “Can you explain anything without insulting me every two seconds?”

Anthony as good as falls to his knees, eager to apologise, “I am sorry-”

Stiles interrupts him, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get it, you’re sorry. Can we please skip to the part where you give me some important information?”

Anthony takes a moment to compose himself before he says, “Stiles, you have cast a magical barrier around your pack’s territory subconsciously.”

“But why would that happen?”

When Anthony gives his answer, Stiles has already anticipated it. 

“As the Alpha’s mate, you are tied to the land of the pack. So, your magic has extended itself to unjust protect the pack but also the territory. Much like the wards you have cast around the loft, this boundary does not allow any unknown supernatural creatures into your territory. I was hoping when the Alpha recovered, you could come with me to meet the fae and allow them entry into your pack lands.”

Stiles feels a little wary, but he doesn’t decline straight away, “Alright. We’ll look into it once Derek’s healed.”

Stiles tries to process their conversation. Even though he’s known Anthony for a few minutes barely, the healer had taught him things that Deaton never mentioned. Stiles doesn’t understand if it’s a selfishly motivated decision or another thing that the pack wants to hide from him. Before Stiles can think of asking Anthony any new questions, Derek wakes up with a groan. 

Stiles moves to his side quickly, helping him lie down more comfortably. 

“Are you feeling better?” 

Derek replies slowly, “Yeah, I think so.”

Stiles sighs, “Good.” He might be upset with the ‘wolf, but he doesn’t want the guy to be in pain. 

He bustles off to the other corner of the kitchen to get a glass of water for the alpha. 

When he turns around, Derek’s glaring at Anthony, who’s tucked himself away in the other corner of the kitchen. 

Stiles feels anxious. He doesn’t know what he wants to hear. On one hand, being Derek’s soulmate is the best thing that can ever happen to him. But also, is it going to be worth it if Derek doesn’t even like him like that.

Somehow the fact that they’re destined to be together doesn’t feel too magical. Stiles can only focus on the fact that Derek’s choice is being taken away from him. 

Stiles tries to ignore the issue at hand as he pushes the glass of water into Derek’s hand. He doesn’t even know how to start the conversation.   
_ Hey Derek, this stranger who shot you says that I’m your soulmate. What do you think? _

Anthony looks at Derek meekly as he sets down his glass. 

“I am truly sorry Alpha. I wrongly assumed that Stiles-”

Derek cut him off with a threatening growl and Anthony amends quickly, “I wrongly assumed that Alpha-mate Stilinski knew of his status. I am sorry for the strife I might cause you.”

Derek glowers at the healer, without giving a reply. Stiles asks slowly, “Derek, he’s made a mistake, right?”

Derek sighs and turns towards him. The alpha’s face turns apologetic. Stiles thinks he knows what’s about to happen. 

“Stiles, he’s right. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before but I didn’t know what to say. Just, I hope we can remain friends.”

Stiles sucks in a deep breath. Every word from Derek’s mouth feels like a punch to the gut. Only his luck can be such that he gets everything he wants but in such a twisted way. He can’t even begin to care around the stink of misery that might be emanating from him. Derek didn’t want him to such an extent that the alpha didn’t even give him a choice. 

Siles feels like laughing at himself. A year back, being rejected by Lydia had felt like the end of the world. But this feels like a new low. How many people can say that their soulmate friend-zoned them? 

Stiles confirms what’s just happened, “But don’t soulmates have to be...Ya’ know?”

Derek replies slowly, like it pains him to say it, “Souldbonds can be platonic as well.”

Stiles nods, His heart sinking, “So nothing changes.”

“Nothing.”

Anthony’s eyes rove over them, as though he wants to say something. But Derek’s growl cuts him off. 

“Hey, growly wolf, play nice. He isn’t trying to kill us.”

Derek’s reply is irritated, “Somehow, the lack of a death threat doesn’t make getting tranqed and paralysed any easier.”

Stiles tries to play it cool, both with his moping and his anger. Anthony might not be a threat, but, Stiles doesn’t want to unnecessarily expose his pack’s liabilities to the man. So, he plays the role of a good emissary and beta, hoping that he’s doing a good enough job of being the alpha-mate as well, without having any reference to go by. 

Stiles also knows that he’s going to have all his life to mope about his bond with Derek, but that won’t change anything. The only thing he can do now is, to be the best possible alpha-mate he can be for Derek. Even if that’s as a friend. 

Anthony bows his head at Derek, “I am truly sorry my actions, Alpha Hale.”

Stiles interrupts before they can get carried away further, “Alright. That’s enough. When are you going to take me to the fae?”

Anthony nods, “I would be more than willing to take you this instant.”

Derek clambers off the counter, “I’m coming too.”

The three of them walk out of the house. Anthony swings his leg over his bike and tells them, “Please follow me, till the county’s boundary.”

Stiles and Derek get into the jeep. Anthony starts his bike and Stiles follows him.

Derek mumbles a few minutes later, “You might have wondered why Deaton didn’t tell you about this… I was the one who told him not to tell you, Stiles. I didn’t know how to tell you about this. So I thought ignoring it might be the best-”

Stiles can’t help the mirthless chuckle that escapes him, “I love how that’s your go-to solution for any problem that has to do with me… Derek, I don’t want explanations for what Deaton did or didn’t do. I want to know why you made up the fact that Peter was around. What did you think that was going to achieve? Like, do you even know me? Did you ever stop to think, oh I wonder what must be going through Stiles’ head? If you didn’t want me knowing, all you had to do was tell me not to ask, or tell me that you don’t trust me. Look, Derek, I don’t care how you run the pack. Whatever Anthony might say, at the end of the day, you’re the alpha. But I only want to know, if you don’t trust me, then why keep me around?”

Derek whines low in his throat at that, “Stiles that’s not what this is about, I -”

Stiles holds up his hand. He can’t listen to Derek give him some half baked lie again. 

“Derek, please. I’m really upset. Let’s just get this fae stuff over with.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm looking for someone to beta this fic... message me on [Tumblr](https://written-prose-things.tumblr.com/) if you're interested.  
> Also, you guys know the drill. Please leave a comment, I'd love to interact...


	7. Show and Tell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First things first, I'd like to thank everyone who commented!! I'm really grateful for the interaction, it's one of the things that keeps me going. Especially for fics like this, which had only been envisioned as one-shots. So thanks for that.   
> If you feel like leaving any prompts feel free to do so, only, I might take some time to complete those, because I'm swamped in college work right now.  
> Also, I will be fixing all the error, continuity faults, spelling and grammar stuff in the next month or so? That's all I guess. But again, a quick thanks to everyone who was invested in this story. I hope the last chapter it to everyone's liking.

Anthony stops his bike a few meters out of the county’s boundary on the side of the road. Stiles rolls down his window as they approach him, “Why’d you stop?”

Anthony points to a thick growth of jungle behind him, “The fae live there. I would have asked you to cast a spell that allowed us to tale the vehicles, but I don’t want to endanger them.”

Stiles nods, “Okay.”

He steps out of the jeep, Derek two steps behind him. Stiles follows the healer into the ferns. As they walk deeper into the forest, Stiles goes over everything he’s ever read about faeries. They are supposed to be these eternally young creatures and they have really strict rules of interaction. Stiles remembers how Chris had coached them when they had assumed that faeries where attacking Beacon Hills.    
There had been a lot of “pleasure to meet you”s and “It’s our honour”s, reminding Stiles of the time in 9th grade when the school theatre group had organised Pride and Prejudice. But Stiles doesn’t know what to expect when he sees the fae. 

In the ned, the clan of fae is nothing like what Stiles expects. They don’t look sparkly or shiny, they aren’t wearing leaves for clothes. They’re just miniature flying humans, albeit dressed like teenagers from Y.A. novels, with their leather jackets and combat boots and the scars on their bodies.

Stiles tries to remind himself that they aren’t as young as they look. 

Anthony leads them from one corner of the clearing in which the fae have set up camp, to the other edge. In between, they pass many small campfires. 

A fae, who seems to be the head of this clan, is sitting on the lower branch of a tree. The three of them stop a few feet away and bow.    
Stiles thanks the stars, the moon and whichever god is looking down on them that this time, he doesn’t have Scott with him as he meets a new supernatural creature. The guy understands social cues slower than even Stiles.    
It feels great to have an alpha with him who doesn’t need directions whispered into his ear constantly. 

“Hello Alpha and Alpha-mate Hale. I am Henriette, the leader of the Californian clan of the fae. Welcome to our humble abode.”

Stiles replies, “Thank you for inviting us, Henriette, for the pleasure is all ours. How may we be of service to you?”

“I assume Anthony has told you of our request? We would like a passage through your lands to travel north.”

Stiles nods, “Yes I am willing to lower the wards for you.”

Henriette directs her next question to Derek, “I also seek the permission of the Alpha to moe through his territory.”

Derek bows his head and replies, “I permit you. The county of Beacon Hills will remain open to any member of the Californian clan of the fae.”

Henriette looks at Derek like he’s some weird sort of side-show, “I do not understand, How can you open your lands to others so freely?”

What Derek says next makes Stiles melt into a mushy puddle.

“I have heard of the prosecution you face for your lifestyle, Henriette. I too have faced similar issues. So, I would like to extend my territory as a haven for those who require it.”

Henriette flits down from her position on the branch and floats towards them, “Thank you Alpha and Alpha0mate Hale, for your kindness.”

Stile nods, “I will lower the shields now, if you are willing, please follow us to the border of the county.”

Stiles, Anthony and Derek walk out of the forest slowly, with a horde of Faeries following them. 

The drive back to the border is silent. Stiles can feel Derek staring at him, But Stiles isn’t going to do the alpha the favour of talking first. 

When they reach the border, Stiles gets out of the jeep and stand with one foot inside and one outside the shield. Anthony shows up on his bike a moment later, being followed by the fae. 

Henriette floats forward and the remaining clan shuffle around behind her, interested in seeing the proceedings but unwilling to upset the status quo. 

Stiles concentrates on his shields and tries to make them more permeable. For a moment, his entire body seizes due to the horrible images that flood his mind. He imagines the wards falling short his pack getting murdered or mauled. 

By the terror doesn’t last long. The faeries cross the shield quickly and Stiles is able to return it to its full strength. 

The other faeries scatter into the woods quickly. But Henriette stays behind. 

When Stiles is sufficiently stable, she starts speaking, 

“I would like to repay our debt to the Hale pack for their extreme kindness and cooperation during this period.”

Derek and Stiles bow their heads softly, “Thank you, Henriette.”

Henriette flutters upwards, her skin getting the sparkly glowy look that Stiles has read about, “I call upon the Earth Goddess to protect the bond between Alpha and his alpha-mate, to make their love stronger, to make them able to take on hardships easily and to always achieve their safety.”

Stiles can feel his knees buckling and his heart thundering. The fae are known to recognise the innermost feelings of creatures. He can’t fight their blessing. He can’t say, no you’re wrong I don’t love Derek without offending the fae and spontaneously combusting into flames. 

Now Derek knows. He knows that Stiles loves him.    
  


It’s so cute, that Stiles is stuck in a one-sided soulbond.

Henriette flits away after having cast the blessing and having paid Anthony, following her clan into the forest behind her clan. Anthony moves across Stiles barriers a moment after the fae are all gone. 

He nods at Stiles and Derek, “It has been a pleasure making your acquaintance.”

-x-

Stiles and Derek get int the jeep again, in absolute silence. 

Derek clears his throat when they’re about to reach the end of the preserve, “About what the faery said...”

Stiles replies aggressively, “Yes Derek I do have a stupid crush on you, okay? But just because you know my feelings doesn’t mean that you get to write off my anger about not being told jackshit.”

Derek replies slowly, the tips of his ears red, “No, I’m- I’m not doing that. I just want to tell you why I did it.”

Stiles replies shortly, “What ‘it’, Derek? Hmm? Hiding the hunter in Beacon Hills? Or not letting Deaton teach me important stuff? Or, or are you going to explain why you made up the Peter problem?”

Derek sighs, “All of it. I’ll give you an explanation.”

“It better be a good reason Derek Hale, or I will intentionally pull out your guts this time.”

Derek mumbles, just loud enough for Stiles to catch it, “You’re my soulmate, Stiles.”

Stiles rolls his eyes, “So?”

“I cannot let you get hurt. I f you knew your duty as my bond, you’d start taking things up. So I asked Deaton to hide some stuff from you.”

Stiles has to make a serious effort to not crash the jeep, but his frustration is getting too much to handle, “ And what about you thinking that it was a good idea to make shit up? To tell me Peter was on the loose?”

Derek shrugs, “There wasn’t much thinking involved, but I assumed that you would at least start taking more care of yourself if you thought that a crazy murdering man was lurking around town.”

Stiles looks at Derek sharply, “Do you even know me? I dive headfirst into all danger, especially when it threatens my pack.”

Derek growls contently at Stiles’ words.

“I know that, but my wolf- It’s like whenever I shift, I want to put ou in a safe corner.”

Stiles sighs but keeps his eyes on the road, “Look, Derek, if you’re expecting me to swoon for the possessive alpha shtick, it isn’t going to happen.”

Derek shakes his head vehemently, “No, Stiles, that isn’t what I want. I just needed you to know why I did all that stuff, even if the why doesn't make too much sense.”

Stiles sighs, “You know what this means, right?”

Derek sighs. From the corner of his eye, Stiles sees his eyebrows scrunch up in dismay.

“Yeah. I’ll leave first thing tomorrow morning. You won’t have to see me again.”

Jeez. Derek does not know what Stiles was going to say at all.

“Dude, stop the I hate myself train for a moment. I’m not asking you to fuck off. I like you.

Derek looks at him like he’s the one who’s lost his mind. Which, when Stiles ponders on, is true enough, because which idiot willingly associates with werewolves when he has nothing to do with them and then falls in love with one of them too?

“Then what do you want?”

“I will need a new teacher. Deaton's an okay person and I know what ack laws state. But I need my own teacher who doesn’t have any previous relations to the pack, someone who will not try to lie to me.”

Stiles interrupts the alpha before he can even complain, “And you don’t get to decide who the teacher will be either.”

Derek mutters, “But what if the teacher turns out to be a hunter? Or a Darach?”

Wow, Derek, projecting much? But Stiles doesn’t say anything.

“Then we’ll deal with that problem when it comes like we always do.”

Derek asks, with a small smile on his lips, “Together?”

Stiles nods, smiling back, “Together.”

Derek asks slowly, “But what about everything else?”

Stiles quirks his head to the side, “What  _ else  _ is there?”

“You know, what the faery said.”

Stiles chuckles, “Oh that? I’ll come by to take you out at 7 this Saturday, That okay with you?”

Derek asks softly, “So does this mean that you’re not pulling my guts out?”

Stiles smirks back, “The judgement is still reserved. Stay on your best behaviour, Alpha.”

Derek growls at his words, But it’s a weird satisfied cat-ish growl that Derek rarely makes. 

“It kills me when you say that. I just-”

“What?” Stiles asks, amusedly.

“You’re driving, I don’t want to distract you.” Derek answers shortly, turning to look out of the window, under the collar of his henley, Derek’s neck looks red.

Stiles isn’t going to let this go. He stops the jeep on a shoulder in the road, “Now you can tell me what you wanted to say, right?”

For the lack of a better word Derek looks like a deer caught in headlights. But Stiles knows what he was about to say, so Stiles smirks softly. 

“How about you show me, rather than saying it out loud?”

Stiles doesn’t expect the alpha to take him up on it. The last coherent thought Stiles has that night is that maybe Derek was the best student when it came to doing “show and tell”s in school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had actually been planning a much angstier route for this story with a second series of fics, where Stiles leaves B.H. because even though the pack is doing it out of their urge to protect him, their coddling is quite suffocating, so he says that he'll find his own path and comes back alter to settle down.   
> But I'm too lazy to write that much angst.


End file.
